


Only My Comfort Shall Suffice

by lottielovebuzz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, An AU from my story "Highway to Hell", F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, deancest, fem!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 13:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lottielovebuzz/pseuds/lottielovebuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Is there a reason you're being so short?'</p><p>'Had a nightmare last night. Haven't been to sleep since.' She replies sleepily, burying her face further into the pillow once she's finished, trying to get back to sleep because like she said last night, she's getting too old for this. Maybe when she was just into her twenties she could survive a night or two without sleep, but now? Now she needed her sleep otherwise she'd collapse as soon as she stepped out of the bed.</p><p>'I've found sex helps me sleep.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only My Comfort Shall Suffice

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Highway to Hell](https://archiveofourown.org/works/875180) by [lottielovebuzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lottielovebuzz/pseuds/lottielovebuzz). 



> I wanted to write something for Deancest December, but have no time to really think up of a decent background and that, so I thought, I'm already writing a story where Dean and Dean meet but one is a girl!Dean, so I thought, what the hell? It's still Deancest and the world and reasoning has already been thought out!! So, this is the thing that came out of that.
> 
> The quoted part comes from [Chapter 8](http://archiveofourown.org/works/875180/chapters/1974831) of my fic [Highway to Hell](http://archiveofourown.org/works/875180?view_full_work=true), but after that it changes so that it fits the whole Deancest plot. ;D

> As usual, Dean wakes after only two or three hours sleep. He reminds himself that he didn't get back to the hotel until 4am after looking at the clock and seeing it reads "06:00". He groans and falls onto his back once more, but knows he won't be getting back to sleep. He knows he has no chance of falling asleep again, his body seems capable of only accepting two hours of sleep and no more.
> 
> 'Hey, you awake over there?' He calls softly, just incase Deanna is still asleep because maybe his female equivalent is better at sleeping; has a better sleeping schedule than he has - than he ever could have.
> 
> 'Of course.' She replies and that shoots down all of those thoughts. Of course she was going to have the same screwed up sleeping patterns, what was he thinking? She was exactly like him but with breasts, he should be used to that by now.
> 
> 'You heard anything from either of the Sams? Dean questions as he sits up, moving the covers off his too warm body and looks over to her, seeing that she still hasn't really moved that much. She's still lying on her stomach and he can see the curves and dips of her back and wow, he really shouldn't be thinking about that.
> 
> 'Nope.'
> 
> He gives a small hum in response before he looks around the room, pursing his lips.
> 
> 'Is there a reason you're being so short?'
> 
> He hears her sigh before he watches her turn her head, fixing her green eyes on him and even from his bed he can see the tiredness and heaviness in them.
> 
> 'Had a nightmare last night. Haven't been to sleep since.' She replies sleepily, burying her face further into the pillow once she's finished, trying to get back to sleep because like she said last night, she's getting too old for this. Maybe when she was just into her twenties she could survive a night or two without sleep, but now? Now she needed her sleep otherwise she'd collapse as soon as she stepped out of the bed.
> 
> 'Oh.' Is all Dean can say before he falls silent again.
> 
> The minutes tick on before Dean speaks again, his mind still fogged over with that haziness of just waking up.
> 
> 'I've found sex helps me sleep.'
> 
> Deanna quirks an eyebrow as she slowly raises her head from the pillow, fixing him with her questioning stare as she cocks her head to the side, and purses her lips to try and stop the laugh from breaking free.
> 
> 'Sex? Really?'
> 
> 'Yeah, I mean, it'd be like masturbating, don't you think?' He answers slowly because even now he's beginning to realise just how stupid it was to say that. He shouldn't be allowed to talk for the first hour after he wakes up if this is the stupid shit he says.
> 
> 'Can't be any weirder than people thinking Sammy and I bang each other.' Deanna replies as she rests her head back onto the pillow, she scoffs slightly at the thought. 

She realises that there is no way in hell that she's going to fall asleep again, and rolls onto her back, readjusting the covers until her legs are free and she sighs as the cool air hits her sweat slick skin. 

'So, the books are a still a thing in your universe?' 

She nods her head. 'Fucking Chuck Shirley, man.' 

She gives a huff of laughter and Dean joins in, but it's short lived as their laughter so normally is. She sighs and shakes her head, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet hit the ugly motel carpet and she wiggles her toes in the threadbare carpet before she stands. 

Deanna walks until she reaches Dean's bed and sits down on it, curling her legs under herself as she turns to look her male version in the eye. 

'Do… do you… never mind.' Deanna sighs, shaking her head and she goes to move but before she can even unfurl her legs from underneath her, Dean's wrapping his hand around her arm and keeping her on the bed.

'What?' 

'It's just… I _worry_. I worry about every single fucking thing and it annoys me, 'cause I never used to be as bad as this. Don't get me wrong, I worried before but… it was never about myself. Now I do and I don't know what to do about it.' She sighs once again and runs her hand through her blonde hair, her fingers getting tangled in her strands and she glares at it. 

She turns her head to look at Dean once more, only to find him closer than he previously was and her breath catches in her throat. Those green eyes up close, framed by long black eyelashes and if that's how hers look too, she can understand why every fucking asshole in the bars she visits feels the need to comment on them. 

Her eyes flicker down to his lips and Dean's tongue comes out to wet them, finding them achingly dry. Suddenly, another comment that every sleazy bastard seems to make about her makes sense; that she has the perfect lips for oral. She can see it now, definitely, those plump lips that are so much like her own would absolutely look downright _sinful_ wrapped around flesh. 

'Wouldn't,' she clears her throat, 'wouldn't it be wrong?'

She's still moving closer to him even as she asks the question and they're so close, that when he shakes his head, his lips brush against his and it sends shivers all the way down her spine. 

'Told you… it'd just be like masturbating.' He chuckles and before she can think anything else, his lips are on hers and she can't protest anymore, can't find the strength to think that hey, this may be a little - or a lot - fucking weird. 

Not to mention, who doesn't want to be able to say to the next person that tells them to "go fuck themselves" that they have and it was awesome, and would definitely do it again, thank you very much. 

Her hand moves on its own accord and entwines itself in his hair as she moves closer to him, pressing up against him in one long line. He's _warm_ ; she can feel the heat radiating through him and she presses closer, because it's been so long since she felt someone this _warm_ and she needs to get as close to him as possible. 

They put it from their minds that this is themselves they're kissing and touching and about to have sex with, otherwise things will die really quickly and they both know they need this. Need to comfort and be comforted, and right now, the only comfort coming to them is themselves as a different gender. 

Dean's hands come up her back and claw at her, and she feels his short nails through her thin shirt. She whines into his mouth and moves even more, so she's now straddling his lap and she nips his lower lip as she does so. 

He grins against her lips and Deanna answers with another soft nip to his plump bottom lip as she grinds down onto him. A moan breaks free from his lips and it's Deanna's turn to grin against his lips. 

Her hands trail down his face, cupping his cheeks and then neck, along his shoulders, squeezing the muscles of his arms before she trails her hand down his chest, fingers splaying out wide in order to touch as much of his torso as she can. The second her hand reaches his belt buckle, she works on loosening it and then pulling it away, throwing it to the ground with a loud clang. 

Normally Dean would make a comment about her being impatient and eager, but this is technically just him he's doing this with and he knows that if someone had to say that to _him_ , it'd make him climb off them and leave the room… and he doesn't want that, not now. Instead, he fixes his hold on her before falling onto his back against the lumpy mattress and then rolls them over so he's hovering over her, bracing himself with his hands on either side of her body.

Dean moves back after a moment, after finally having a turn at nipping Deanna's lower lip, and he sits back onto his knees and works away at his jeans. He doesn't miss how Deanna turns her head away and doesn't watch as he undresses, but he can't blame her. Sitting back like this, no longer under the haze of lust it's easy to remember that the situation they're in.

But the desire for comfort and closeness is stronger than the one that's telling them to stop what they're doing before they go too far and can't turn back. 

So, Dean pulls his jeans off and shimmies out of them and his boxers before leaning down to do the same to Deanna. He's tempted to ask her if she really wants to go through with this, just to make sure and offer her an out if she wants one, but the second the button on her jeans is loose, she's lifting her hips off the bed so he can pull them down and off her, and Dean knows that's her silently answering his unspoken question. 

She still wants this, and judging by the way her hand snakes down to entwine in his hair and tug him up, she wants this to hurry the fuck up. 

Dean's lips descend onto Deanna's the second he's level with her face once more, and the hand that's not supporting his weight trails down her side, relishing in the warmth emitting from her body and the way she arches her back and leans up to him, pushing and pressing into him, determined to get closer and closer. 

It's not long before Dean gets the urge to get closer too and he moves his free hand to spread her legs a little wider and then, after meeting those familiar green eyes again, silently offering her an out again, he slides into her with a slow move of his hips.

They both groan as he slides further into her and again when he stops because can't get any deeper. There's a small pause, both of them panting and staring at each other, eyes wide and pupils blown. Their lips are mere centimetres apart and their breath mingling with each shaky exhale. 

She lifts her hips in a silent demand and after a second, Dean pulls out and thrusts back in, setting up a steady pace that has Deanna's toes curling against the scratchy covers, her hands clawing at Dean's back as she feels the muscles move and clench under her fingertips. 

Deanna turns her head away from him and it isn't long before his lips descend onto her neck, kissing and biting and the line of muscle there. He presses his lips against each cluster of freckles that adorn her skin that he can reach.

She groans again and manages to gasp out, 'We deserve it, don't we?' 

Dean lifts his head and Deanna turns around to face him the second he does, her hips still bucking to meet each and every one of his thrusts. 

He can't find the words to reply, so instead just raises an eyebrow, his hand trailing down her side and heading straight for her clit. He rubs the bundle of nerves in small circles and Deanna can't find the necessary power to summon a thought or word as sparks run through her body. Her hips buck again, losing the tempo they had made, unable to decide whether to chase Dean's thrusts or the fingers circling her clit. 

'To be happy!' She gasps out, hands roaming about his back unable to stay still. They clench the strong muscles on his arms, trace down the dip in his back and then the long width of his shoulder blades. 'We deserve that, don't we?' 

She opens her eyes in order to look into his, not missing the look in them that just screams _of course we don't, we were never meant to be happy_ , before they disappear entirely as his head descends and starts pressing kisses and sucking marks into the corner of her neck.

Dean kisses and bites and sucks his way up her long neck, then takes her earlobe into his mouth and bites it softly.

'Things are going to be fine for us, Deanna. I promise.' Dean whispers in her ear as his thrusts get faster and harder, and the fingers on her clit get faster and faster and harder and make smaller, tighter circles that has her seeing stars. He gnaws at her earlobe once he's finished speaking and she answers by running her nails down his back, fingers gliding smoothly over the thin layer of sweat. 

She hears him whisper another "I promise" into her ear, followed by a soft gasp and she can't hold back anymore. 

She comes with a strangled moan and squeezes her eyes shut, revelling in the shocks and shivers running through her body, a content sigh falling free when the tremors stop and a moment later, Dean collapses on top of her, his face buried in her neck and she runs her hand up and down his back. 

He takes a moment to recover before he rolls over and drags Deanna with him, so she's resting on his chest and his hand comes up to card through her hair.

His hand is still combing through her hair when she stretches and then rolls away from him. His hand falls from her hair and onto his chest with a soft thud.

'Do you believe the words you just said?' She murmurs as she traces the shape of a questionable mark on the ceiling of the sleazy motel with her eyes. 

He chuckles, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He shakes his head. 'Not at all.' 

He stands and makes his way through to the bathroom and Deanna feels a smirk grow on her lips despite herself. She hears the shower start and it's enough to make her roll out of his bed, pull her pants back on and move over to her own bed. She throws herself onto it, buries her face into her pillow and tries not to feel saddened by his answer, because she was more than ready to believe the lies he whispered in her ear. 

Even though, deep down, she always knew they were impossible.

**Author's Note:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


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